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Mrs, Nita Pierson, San Francisco 

Writer, Issues Volume in 

"Sonnets of My Life." 

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new Poet Gives 
Expression of Love 
In Sonnet Form 

Mrs, Nita Pierson, San Francisco 
Writer, Issues Volume in 

"Sonnets of My Life." 


"Sonnets of My Life," is the frank 
ly autobiographical title which Nita 
Pierson, a new San Francisco poet, 
puts to a collection of thirty-two 
skillfully woven verses of love and 
San Francisco. Now when Elizabeth 
Barrett wrote her sonnets to Robert 
Browning she called then "Son 
nets from the Portuguese," so it may 
oe expected that from converse anal 
ogy that poems of a personal pro 
noun are more apt to be imaginative 
than verses with an alien caption. 

However, that maybe, the verses of 
Mrs. Pierson are veritably "Sonnets 
of a Woman s Life"; they are es 
sentially the expression of a woman 
of dignity and power; the interpre 
tation of a life of love and of not a 
ittle wisdom. 

The first serie^Mft "Love Sonnets 
:o a White-sould^Bran," and they 
comprise the best ^rork in the slend- 
r book. An example of Mrs. Pier- 
son s skill in imagry and in sonne- 
eering may be had from reading the 
final sonnet of this group: 

ray mist and gold is this faiaht s symphony: 
High ceiled and ^ast, with purpling, sabled 

cloud. 

The river, apathetic as a shroud 
Vbove the tea.rs of an eternity 
~)f humankind, winds placidly to sea. 
Beneath my window, lovers, shyly proud, 
Stroll by, fair heads upturned to head low 

bowed. 
The golden lights gleam unconcernedly. 

Somewhere tho joyous laughter of a child 
Breaks sudden like spilled stars in scattering 

fllgrht. 

And tlicre, an agred couple, love-beguiled. 
Impart a touch of neaven to the night. 
And 1" 1 yearn with poignant, grief, and pine 
For one dear heart beyond the reach of mine. 

Included in the book are four ex 
cellent sonnets on the Exposition. 
Vlrs. Pierson handles very success- 
ully the most difficult task of trans- 
erring the vast, colorful images of 
he Exposition courts into verse. In 
i, sonnet to George Sterling Mrs. 
Person acknowledges his interest in 
ler work. 



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Pierson acknowledges his interest in 



SONNETS OF MY LIFE 

by NITA PIERSON 



SONNETS OF MY LIFE 



BY 



NITA PIERSON 




PHILOPOLIS PRESS 
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA 

MDCMXVI 



Copyright, 1916, by 

NlTA PlERSON 



CONTENTS. 

Page 
To MY DAUGHTER . . ... . 5 

LOVE SONNETS TO THE WHITE-SOULED MAN . 9-17 
SONNETS OF THE PANAMA-PACIFIC INTERNATIONAL 
EXPOSITION: 

The Exposition from the Hill . . .21 

The Palace of Fine Arts .... 22 

The Court of Abundance .... 23 

The Court of The Universe ... 24 

SONNETS OF IMPRESSIONS AND TRIBUTE: 

America to the World ..... 27 

The Sentence ...... 28 

Renunciation ...... 29 

Pavlowa ....... 30 

A Tribute . . . . . . 31 

To Alma ....*.. 32 

Kendall s Sonnet, and Dorothea s 33 

To T. H. B 34 

To R s 35 

The Muscle Dancers .... 36 

To George Sterling . . . . -37 

SONNETS OF AN IDEAL LOVE .... 41-48 



342SGS 



TO MY DAUGHTER. 

Afflicted of my womb foredoomed to prove 

A mother s love outreaching farthest space! 

I do not weep your helpless, lost embrace, 
Remembering how you fled this world whereof 
You knew no evil thing, nor lack of love. 

O blighted blossom with the lily s grace 

Of heaven suffusing your ethereal face! 
None saw, save I, the nimbus rayed above. 

Diving embodiment of my solitud^, 

Why should I weep for you who know no tears ? 
So much of crushing Time have we withstood, 
What matters now a day or months or years? 
Serene, I wait, in peace with you to lie, 
When God concedes to me the right to die. 

NlTA PlERSON. 

San Francisco, August, 1916. 



LOVE SONNETS TO THE WHITE-SOULED 

MAN. 



: I./-, \ , &lt; }: ; \\ : :;* 

These sonnets made for you, love, dare you claim ? 
Or shall your lips remain forever sealed, 
So that, by neither speech nor sign revealed, 

They pass beneath the silence of your shame, 

To alien hands, in my beloved s name? 

If this be so indeed then have I kneeled 
To one as vain as any god congealed 

Within a pagan idol s gilded frame. 

Nay, love, I love you for that name I gave; 

And love the name for being all of you; 
White-souled ! epitome of all the brave, 
The good in man; a friend as rare as true! 
And great enough, I know, to give the fool 
Your high heart s pity for his ridicule. 



Your roses glorify my chamber s space ! 

As if to tell me that they do not miss 

The outer air, they radiate the bliss, 
The light, your presence yields to all the place. 
But oh, too eager seem they to efface 

Their beauty in oblivion s abyss; 

So zealously, unfolding petals kiss 
The plundering hours that pass and leave no trace. 

No trace of color, perfume, bud or bloom 
That now in riotous joy of living smile 
Upon a friendly sun within my room. 

And this it is that makes me sad the while : 
To know, that as they perish leaf by leaf, 
My fleeting joy in you must be as brief. 



10 



Upon the altar stone of your desire 

Impetuously my rose of love I cast! 

My rose, whose tender petals shall outlast 
The fitful flare of maddening passion s fire. 
And to another s need, that dares aspire 

But to my rose alone from all the vast 

Array of blooms for his acceptance massed, 
I toss a painted, paper thing on wire! 

Above your guarded, worldly heart you wear 
Love s oriflamme with pleased, complacent air. 
While he, that other, clutching Love s alloy, 

Drops swift on bended knee, and oh! God knows! 
Is happier with his painted, paper toy 

Than you who flaunt Love s glowing, glorious rose ! 



ii 



Your roses glorify my chamber s space! 

As if to tell me that they do not miss 

The outer air, they radiate the bliss, 
The light, your presence yields to all the place. 
But oh, too eager seem they to efface 

Their beauty in oblivion s abyss; 

So zealously, unfolding petals kiss 
The plundering hours that pass and leave no trace. 

No trace of color, perfume, bud or bloom 
That now in riotous joy of living smile 
Upon a friendly sun within my room. 

And this it is that makes me sad the while: 
To know, that as they perish leaf by leaf, 
My fleeting joy in you must be as brief. 



10 



Upon the altar stone of your desire 

Impetuously my rose of love I cast! 

My rose, whose tender petals shall outlast 
The fitful flare of maddening passion s fire. 
And to another s need, that dares aspire 

But to my rose alone from all the vast 

Array of blooms for his acceptance massed, 
I toss a painted, paper thing on wire! 

Above your guarded, worldly heart you wear 
Love s oriflamme with pleased, complacent air. 
While he, that other, clutching Love s alloy, 

Drops swift on bended knee, and oh! God knows! 
Is happier with his painted, paper toy 

Than you who flaunt Love s glowing, glorious rose ! 



1 1 



IV. 



None knew how tired we were, my heart and I ; 

Despairingly, as little children are 

Who through the shadowed ways have wandered far, 
Unloved, untaught, beneath an alien sky, 
Whose every breath is weighted with a sigh. 

When lo, there gleamed above the misted bar 

Of sea and cloud a single, friendly star, 
Wan, wasting hopes to raise and glorify! 

And now, as ever by its guiding light, 

We, comforted, go singing on our way, 

Swift-winged desires unto its reachless height 

Fare forth resistlessly by night and day. 

Sometimes in dreams upon its breast we lie: 
To wake and find it so, were first to die. 



12 



V. 



Oh, I have heard you say, "I love you!" though 
T was said impulsively, beneath the stress 
Of my abandonment to your caress : 

Avowed (against reflection cool, I know) 

For pity rather, since I craved it so. 

And yet the lips, the eyes that mine possess, 
Confirm what words retraftingly confess. 

Were I but brave enough to turn and go 

Into the agonizing, loveless mist 

Of tears that blinded me before you came. 

I dream that you would follow, nor resist 
The want to call me by some tender name. 

Ah, Love, delve deep within your heart to see 
The wealth of love it holds, and all for me ! 



VIII. 



I know an isolated house within 

Whose dominating windows calm allure 
The limpid globes of azure lamps immure 

A soul-stilled flame beyond the reach of sin. 

From where the lowly ways of love begin, 
Unto that sanctuaried radiance pure, 
Tip-toed, I lift hands eager to secure 

The rarest, sweetest gift that heart can win. 

What matter that I stand beyond the pale 

Of flower-bordered path and sheltering door? 
That light is all my God and will not fail 
To pierce my dark-in-life forevermore. 
An outcast at the gates of Paradise ! 
Love, let this be my sonnet to your eyes. 



16 



IX. 



Gray mist and gold is this night s symphony; 

High ceiled and vast with purpling, sabled cloud. 
The river, apathetic as a shroud 
Above the tears of an eternity 
Of humankind, winds placidly to sea. 
^ Beneath my window, lovers, shyly proud, 
*\ Stroll by, fair heads upturned to heads low bowed. 
The golden lights gleam unconcernedly. 

Somewhere the joyous laughter of a child 

Breaks sudden like spilled stars in scattering flight. 
And there, an aged couple, love-beguiled, 
Impart a touch of heaven to the night. 

And I ? . . I yearn with poignant grief, and pine 
For one dear heart beyond the reach of mine. 



SONNETS OF THE PANAMA-PACIFIC 
INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION. 



I. 
THE EXPOSITION FROM THE HILL. 

Where the long street attains its utmost height, 
I, jostling amiably the crowd for room, 
Beheld the citied jewel, Venture s bloom, 

Low-plained before me in resplendent night 

A joy forever to my raptured sight. 

Far arms of rainbow light fanned from the tomb 
Where sea and sky receded into gloom; 

A car clanged down the hill in burdened flight. 

Achieving San Francisco well may boast 

That where this strip of conquering beauty lies, 
Short years agone was but a mudded coast, 
Malingering waste beneath reproachful skies. 
And marveling thus at tower and spire, I knew 
That even I might dare, and, daring, do! 

San Francisco, April, 1915. 



21 



II. 
THE PALACE OF FINE ARTS. 

Mankind here templed peace with folded wing 

In quietude eternal and sublime, 

Serenely gleaning from the hoards of Time 
Transcendent loveliness, soliciting 
The passing heart to bide for solacing. 

Wan lights athwart majestic columns climb; 

The silence silvers to a cricket s chime; 
Faint ripples o er the sombre waters swing. 

And yet, beyond the dark s remotest rim, 

Beyond the leagues and leagues of sundering sea, 
The peace shrined here is but despotic whim ! 
For man agrees in blood to disagree; 

Man ravening past man s power to retrieve ! 
Knew I not so, so could I ne er conceive. 



22 



III. 
THE COURT OF ABUNDANCE. 

Abundance in abundance, man-avowed! 

By wizardry supreme of head and hand, 

Impressive symbols of earth s plenty stand 
In this fair court revealed to sun and cloud. 
Yea, here the fruits of man s rich genius crowd, 

Mute messengers of soul, at his command; 

Attesting a supply divinely planned: 
Enough for all, and more, hath God allowed. 

Then why the children drooping at the loom 

And men who ask in vain for work and bread, 
Frail mothers slaving in bare pittanced gloom 
And shameful host of needless infant dead? 
Forgive! O God! the mighty and the strong! 
We know this should not be, this grievous wrong. 



IV. 

THE COURT OF THE UNIVERSE. 

Herein are merged all things of all the world; 
For from the farthest, ancient isle, at last, 
Has onward, treasure-bearing commerce passed 

Unto our gate, and through; and just years hurled 

Gyved slavery from her mart. God s blessings, furled 
In wedded seas, in fruits and flowers massed 
Against rich hills neath skies benign and vast, 

Adorn our gate, prosperity impearled. 

Portrayed by man on each triumphal arch 

The progress-blazers of the centuries go ; 
From Orient and Occident they march, 

And this the truth they vision, live and know: 
So much remains of evil to abate, 
Look up and love! There is no time for hate. 



SONNETS OF IMPRESSIONS AND TRIBUTE. 



I. 
AMERICA TO THE WORLD. 

" Art thou her child, . . And canst thou now 
Watch with a stranger s gaze?" 

By WM. WATSON. 

Daughter of none, mother to all, am I ! 
Conflicting children of one Father pour 
Into my arms from every alien shore. 
Throughout my welcoming, plentied lands they hie, 
Unlearning hate; forgetting to deny 

The brotherhood of man forevermore 
Men of all nations living door to door, 
In peace progressing and in peace to die. 

The melting-pot of all the world am I ! 
Transmuting man s unnatural enmity 
For man, the root of war s destructive lie, 
Into a sound and sane democracy; 

Whose dominant, humane, uplifting note 
Sets not a brother at a brother s throat! 

San Francisco, February, 1915. 



II. 
THE SENTENCE. 

What grants it me, this gift of common-sense, 
This quality of mind that bids me let 
You go as one beneath my worth ? And yet 

My spirit quails with need of you! drawn tense 

To aching silence by the mind s immense 
Routine of logic that cannot forget 
Although the heart forgives. And so I fret 

Away the empty days at Love s expense. 

The way of life is rugged, steep and drear. 
I did but seek the clasp of mating hands 
Heart s solace of a heart for all my own! 
When on the open road you wandered near, 

I cried, "At last, here s one who understands!" 
But destiny decreed, "On, on, alone!" 



28 



III. 
RENUNCIATION. 

I loved you, loved you! in the days gone by; 

The glad, mad days while Love held utter sway. 

And oh, the promiseful, gold dreams that lay 
Like beckoning stars athwart our common sky! 
Alas, they vanished in a mood, a sigh. 

You steeled your heart and, manlike, went your way. 

What was there left for me to do or say ? 
Against the night I pitched my voiceless cry! 

God, ever listening God, stretched forth His hand, 

And now I feel the holy calm descend 
In twilight benediction o er the land; 

The zeal of right desire with God to friend; 
The whirr of tiny wings across the blue; 
But never, nevermore heart s need of you. 



IV. 

PAVLOWA. 

Fair mortal, girt with wings invisible ! 

With art inimitable transcending art 

One moment, imaging the airy dart 
Of bird or dragon-fly in some wild dell; 
The next, revealing passion s languorous spell, 

Ere merging into virtue s counterpart. 

Her foot a rose leaf lighting on the heart; 
Her smile a joy for after-years to tell. 

Yet they who worship her but dimly guess 

The arduous, lacerating years that lie 
Twixt aspiration, effort and success; 

"Pavlowa, the incomparable!" they cry. 
I peer into the vanquished years to ask 
What need all conquering held her to her task ? 



V. 



A TRIBUTE. 

Maude Adams, synonym for every grace 
Of woman wholly human, yet divine! 
Her glowing, understanding heart the shrine 

Whence genius bears immortal fires to trace 

Man s soul at will upon the actress face! 
A woman of the stage, too pure and fine 
For fame to mar or evil to malign 

A rose of earth adorning starry space. 

The beautiful, the lovable and true, 

Her noble nature mirrors down the years; 
The virtue of the woman flaming through 
The mimicry of laughter and of tears ; 
A star of stars entrancing every heart, 
And yielding all in all of self to art. 



VI. 

TO ALMA. 

Alma s Thelma, my childhood playmate s child! 

Alma, the girl I knew, to woman grown, 

Her clambered knees a toddling tyrant s throne, 
Her days to mother-service reconciled. 
To fates antipodal the years beguiled 

Our sundering feet; and I, cast forth alone 

Upon an evil world, unto my own 
Return again, grief-taught while Alma smiled. 

Much have I gleaned, from souls that drift in dark, 

Of wisdom humbled, rooted deep in tears; 
And though wee Thelma bears no naked mark 
Of weal or woe predestined to her years, 
I know, that whatsoe er the fates impel , 
If she but hold Love sacred, all is well. 



VII. 

KENDALL S SONNET, AND DOROTHEA S. 

Melodious heart, so bravely caroled you, 

Though lost delight lamented down your days, 

Fair Dorothea, calm in sheltered ways, 
Upleaned to list the lyric lure that drew 
Her raptured soul the singer s soul unto. 

No more, unmated, lone, her poet strays; 

Warm-lipped and lustrous-eyed with love s amaze, 
She goes to share a golden dream come true. 

Sing, Kendall, then, of tranquil joys that press 

On loyalty twixt dear and ail-too dear 
The common cares, the unconcealed caress, 
The lifted latch for friends and friendly cheer; 
And all of these your inspiration find 
To wing the song divine for all mankind. 



33 



VIII. 



TO T. H. B. 

There came a day, a day when sorrow s night 

Obliterated all my waning sun. 

Grief-desolate I stood and there was none 
To brave my dark with what I sought of light. 
Not one ? Nay ! you, unasked, essayed the height 

That hazards all that life from life has won. 

O soul invincible, that dared outrun 
Contemporaneous mind, and dared do right! 

Withholding petty beauty, God denied 

You admiration in the general glance; 
But yours the hand that brushed the world aside, 
A righteous soul s conviction to advance. 
Nor you, nor I, shall ever know regret; 
But may I forfeit love if I forget ! 



34 



IX. 

TO R s. 

The house I live in decks the city s crown; 

And from beneath my window, streets of gray 

Run flat, then dip and lift a breathless way 
To stretch for many miles across the town. 
Green hills rise far beyond the roofs of brown; 

The heavens curve to meet the shimmering bay; 

And when the dusk comes to usurp the day, 
Alone I watch the flaming sun go down. 

From work and play the homing folk fare by; 

And man-made lights flash forth innumerably; 
A myriad antique stars adorn the sky, 

Remote with night s primeval sovereignty. 

Earth s tranquil silences in silence woo 
******** 

My guilty heart cries guiltily for you! 



35 



X. 

THE MUSCLE DANCERS. 

Tricked out with glittering gauds and garish lace, 

With eyes too spiritless for lips so red, 

Soul-agonized, derision-surfeited, 
These women dance, their bodies sensual pace 
With aching repetition shorn of grace 

Spent travesties of youth from young years fled, 

Dissembling joy to frenzied music shed. 
The curious crowd the curious out of place. 

Nay, save your sneers ! Judge not, for you see naught 

But what you paid to see. These women dwell 
In censured gloom shut out from lettered thought. 
And so, before you stab with scorn, t is well 
To recoiled that not to them, but you, 
Belongs the vice that custom panders to. 



XI. 

TO GEORGE STERLING. 

Poised godlike on some far Olympian height, 

Above this world of time and change, he sings; 

And from the soul s Promethean spark outflings 
Resplendent stars of song to range the night. 
Dull worldlings plod unmindful of that might 

Of music sounding high imaginings; 

No, not for these the splendid thought that rings 
Down endless morrows of increasing light. 

Yet sometimes at the twilight of the day 

When sighs the brooding Autumn of the year, 
This empyrean singer chants a lay 

Of simpler things, a dream, a smile, a tear; 

And hearts that falter mid the struggling throng 
Drink in the healing spirit of the song. 



37 



SONNETS OF AN IDEAL LOVE. 



I. 

I said, "This city is self-centered, small; 

Its people s hearts insensate to my need; 

Their minds so limited to petty greed, 
That I, a stranger, glimpse no chance at all 
To gain success." All this, at my first call, 

To you I said. Oh, you were kind indeed! 

The timepiece on your desk marked jealous speed, 
A pictured Lincoln pondered on the wall. 

And when again into the street I fared, 

There throbbed a city beautiful and new, 
And starry-beautiful the dream we shared, 
The dream the city shared with me of you, 
The while I lifted to its cooling mist, 
The lips that your withheld desire had kissed. 



II. 



Oh, they were glorious days on which I came 

To sit beside your desk with you, and chat; 

So eagerly discussed we this and that, 
Divining in each other s breast the flame 
We clarioned wistful-eyed, yet dared not name. 

The subtle turn of wit at times fell flat; 

Our meeting eyes forgot to smile thereat. 
And for what followed, dear, to whom the blame ? 

At but a word, a glance, the barriers fell ! 

I trembled in your arms! Against the white 
Intensity of your desire, the shell 

Of masking self-repression crumbled quite. 
Yea! flame to flame your lips on my lips lay! 
Soul merged with soul, forever and for aye! 



III. 



I have but glimpsed the portals of success 

Scarce looked upon the slowly opening door; 

And now you speak of going on before, 
Into that peace beyond all mortal stress. 
I have but closed my hand on happiness, 

The love of you that probes my spirit s core. 

Dream you, since life for me can hold no more 
Than you, that I can hold with life for less? 



I faltered at your feet, fate s daunted tool ! 

A stricken, broken thing that smiled on death. 
You hailed me "Great!" when others cried me "Fool!" 
Inspired, uplifted me, instilled new breath! 
And see ! I write for all the world to know 
That all I have and am, to you I owe! 



43 



IV. 



You, you alone can weight the hours with grief; 

Compel the dragging anguish down my eyes, 

To slay the promise of the laughing skies, 
Subdue the glint on every sunkissed leaf, 
And rouse me from my dream. Pressed sheaf on sheaf, 

Dull pain within your silence multiplies. 

Beyond my door earth s summering beauty lies 
Unprized of me who know that joy is brief. 

To-morrow s sky may azure be or gray; 

The highway warm with sun or chill with rain ; 
Still shall the tears that to your silence stay, 
Suspend the blurring curtain of their pain. 
For if your smile return not with the dawn, 
The day for me is gone, forever gone ! 



44 



This day between our inmost selves is spanned 

A full year s toll of ecstasy and woe. 

The direst grief that womankind may know 
Was mine, made bearable beneath your hand. 
So hours with you, springs in a desert land, 

Relieved the tedious stretch of tragic show. 

Bethink you, love, how one short year ago 
Your name fell not in any deed I planned. 

And now ! Life s all I center in your heart, 

Content to guide my rushlight by your star; 
In secret from the world, a dream apart, 

To love you for the crownless king you are, 
Who gave me back, as only great souls can. 
The faith that I had lost in God and man. 



45 



Against the window where I write, the rain 
Beats ceaselessly a chant of pending doom, 
And all about me in the room, my room, 

Your books and flowers, gifts from hands so fain 

To giving, echo, mutely-tongued, the strain 
Of sighs unwearied in the outer-gloom, 
Resounding on the hours as on a tomb 

Where Love, death-barred, weeps bitter tears and vain, 

O traitorous Yesterday ! that went her way 
Unmindful to redeem the promise-gold 
Of a resplendent, love-fulfilled To-day ! 
The rain upon my heart is chill and cold. 
Alone I wait, oppressed with dire alarms, 
Who thought this day to revel in your arms. 



: yn: 

Again, and yet again, the sun must rise; 

And four times more the laggard hands creep round 

The stolid clock, before I hear the sound 
Of your still distant voice; for, modern-wise, 
By this mute telephone you will apprise 

Me of your presence on our trysting ground. 

To-morrow s morrow beckons, rapture-crowned! 
To-morrow s morrow, with your lips, your eyes! 

Because you are not here to see them go 

On joyous wing and fleet, indifferently, 
With sluggish pace, the hours proceed, the slow, 
Unwanted hours that have no heed of me. 
But when again our sundering time is past, 
Ah then all kinds of hours fly all too fast! 



47 



yiii. ; 

My love for you I tell in phrases shod 

With truth. If your controlling Fates, beguiled 
From Fortune s best accordances, defiled 

Your body s sweetness with the leper s rod, 

And banished you to friendless, desolate sod, 
Still would I cleave to you abased, reviled 
Ot man and smile on you as if I smiled 

In heaven; and walk as if I walked with God! 

And in that same exalted spirit I 

Encourage, spur and speed you to success 
Heaped on success. I let the world go by : 
Desiring to your noble worth, no less 
Than all of body, brain and soul to give. 
O Love! I could not love you more! and live. 



UNIVEKSTTY OF CALIFORNIA LIBEAEY, 
BERKELEY 

THIS BOOK IS DUB ON THE LAST DATE 
STAMPED BELOW 

Books not returned on time are subject to a fine of 
50c per volume after the third day overdue, increasing 
to $1.00 per volume after the sixth day. Books not in 
demand may be renewed if application is made before 
expiration of loan period. 



JUN 3,1926 



NOV271953LU 



. . mi -1, 1 5 



YB I 1 873 



3428GS 



"E: 



UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 



